(shit-suck-ee) - noun, a Japanese mulled wine

To those of us who have stumbled through parenthood and tripped over who we thought we were. Those of us who have inadvertantly collided with our wives, and tumbled, and landed on the arses of our daydreams in a large puddle of adulthood. Muttering wide-eyed to ourselves, "Shitsake. What just happened?"

This is a space dedicated to mid-life musings, mid-life spread and mid-life crisis. To coarse language, bad spelling, and poor judgement. To bad advice, biased observations, terrible exaggerations, with told with a slight dash of misogynistic humour.

Sunday, January 23, 2011

Toilet Etiquette


Some questions only have one right answer.
So when you reappear from the loo after a quick pre-movie leak and you are about to dip your hand into a box of shared popcorn, and you are asked - “Did you wash your hands?
The only correct answer to give is: “Come on! Of course!”

But let me tell you.
Off the record.

There is no bloody chance I washed my hands in there.
Yes it is a beautiful cinema, and yes, the bathrooms are immaculate, but none the less, it is a PUBLIC toilet.
That means a lot of people use it.
People I don’t know. People I don’t want to know.
Some of them odd looking.
And that means Warlock is most certainly the cleanest thing in there.

I have a common sense golden rule of public toilet use.
Only touch yourself.
Realise this - your dick/penis/cock (Warlock) is the most germ free area in there.

Only open the door with your elbow or your foot. Don’t touch the door handle or the germ laden metal door panel around it.
You don’t take the door off its hinges, just a gentle nudge with your foot will do.

Once inside use the urinals whenever you can, just walk in, unzip and get things done.
Be careful about peeing on the blue tablets or the ice cubes and trying to get them to melt in one spot, you might get some splash back, and nothing will take your mind off the opening credits more than the thought that somebody else’s putrid piss is slowly burning a hole on your skin.
If they are not automatic, then when you flush use your elbow, or don’t flush at all.
Make sure you don’t touch anything with bare skin.

Now, if you have to use a stall take extra precautions.
Again, nudge the door open with your foot (you wear slip slops at your peril, hippy creep)
I can’t say this enough.
Do not touch anything in there.
Lift the lid and the seat with the toe of your shoe until they are resting in the upright position.
Have your leak, write your name, and get it over with.
Now, afterwards, if it is a press button flush or a lever, use your foot, or if in a long sleeve shirt, your elbow again, is also allowed.

Here’s where most of us eff up. Don’t wash your hands on the way out. A million urine and faeces covered hands have been on that tap before you. It is wet, and moist and warm. You are guaranteed to pass a shitsakes infection to Warlock from which he might not recover.

Leaving is more difficult than arriving. The door opens against you.
But don’t slack off now.
And for shitsake don’t use the door handle. Think of all those shitty, wet infected hands on the door handle before you. It’s frigging gross. Don’t do it.
Wait for someone to come in, or wait for someone to leave, and then catch the bottom of the door with your foot.
If you get stuck and you don’t want to miss the previews waiting for someone to come in, then go for the top of the door. Carefully.
I find you can generally get enough traction with your fingertips to swing it open.

Exit calmly. As you approach your partner wipe your hands on the back and side of your pants as though the drier didn’t work properly. If required, hold them up and blow on them and add a “tsk, tsk – bloody hand driers never work properly”

Enjoy the popcorn secure in the knowledge that you have done your bit to combat the spread of germs and vile venereal disease, and give thanks that you aren’t a woman who had to sit, or even worse, that you didn’t need to do a number two.

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